Masks
by Lvl2DragonTamer
Summary: She was tough, she was alone, and she looked out for number one. Anything else was circumstantial. A collection of oneshots, Rogue-centered.


_This would be a small collection of random oneshots, all Rogue-centered at this point and all in varying degrees of shortness. Enjoy._

* * *

**001**  
_After "Cajun Spice"  
_

"For the love of emo, Kitty, put that down!"

Kitty had been about to do just that when Rogue had screamed. Before, she had thought that Rogue was using the playing card as a bookmark because she was too cheap to buy a real one. But now, the girl had the _I'm-scared-but-I'm-dealing-with-it-by-being-angry _look on her face, so there _totally _had to be more to the story than that.

"'For the love of emo'?" Kitty giggled and evaded the lunge (complete with half growl) without even bothering to use her powers. She held the card high above her head. "Don't worry, Rogue, I'll, like, totally put it down. Eventually."

Rogue changed direction remarkably fast. She would have had Kitty if it weren't for the girl's powers. As it was, Rogue slammed into the wall.

"So, how'd you get it?"

Rogue straightened herself out, took a deep breath, and forced her expression into a semblance of calm. "A friend gave it to me." Her southern accent colored the words—"fraynd" instead of "friend", and "ta" instead of "to".

"Uh-huh." Kitty twirled it in her hands.

"Now, can you please—"

"No." Kitty held it up to the light. She loved the way Rogue spoke, actually. She had tried imitating it once, but the girl had taken it as an insult. "Let's see here—no writing. Can't see how you could fit this into a computer, so scratch memory card." She paced in a small circle in the floor as she spoke. Rogue's fists clenched, but the futility of trying to get something away from a girl who _phased through things whenever she wanted _had already been made painfully apparent. On several occasions.

"You have your own room, now, Kitty." Rogue said in a carefully measured voice. "I don't see why you have to always come snooping in mine."

"The back isn't a typical Bicycle deck, though. It's purple and diamond-y. Now where—"

_Oh. Oh no. This was too good._

Rogue was staring out the window. She was focused way too hard on the scenery than she should have been.

_Oh, yes._

"Gambit uses cards like these, doesn't he?"

Despair broke out on Rogue's face. Pure despair, plain and simple.

Kitty giggled.

Rogue snatched the card back—Kitty let her, of course. Rogue wrenched open her dresser, shoved the door shut—she really slid the card into a pocket on the leg of her pants, it was a quick motion, but Kitty caught it anyways—and turned back around.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but it sure isn't—"

"Oh, don't be so defensive, Rogue." Kitty flicked her hand to the side and bounced out of the room. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything."

That sentence made Kitty giggle like mad all the way to the boys' dorms. She needed to talk to Kurt. Now.

* * *

**002**  
_Before Season 3_

"Rogue!" Kurt barreled down the hallway at a speed Pietro would have gaped at--when he was precisely three feet away from the teenage girl he remembered his ability to warp directly into and out of space. He did so. Rogue barely had time to gag on the brimstone and sulfur he left behind before he_ bamfed_ directly over her head. Needless to say, she hurled him into the wall.

"Kurt!"

The mutant was currently wearing his holo-ring--it flickered for a moment, revealing his yellow irises for a mere fraction of a second. Then he was back on his feet with a grin that seemed a little more forced than it had just a few seconds ago. "Look what the Professor got me, Rogue. Don't worry, I'm wearing gloves under the hologram."

He shoved his hand at Rogue's face. Every muscle in the girl's body tensed, but she didn't move. She was staring at his hand like he had just pointed a gun in her direction, but she didn't move. That was something. Kurt lightly pressed the back of his hand against Rogue's forehead.

At first, there wasn't any reaction other than an angry glare. Then the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes shot wide open, the dark grey stark against the whites. She looked at him--he had never seen Rogue give that much of a surprised look to anybody--so naturally he burst out laughing.

"Shit, Kurt!" She yelled, and shoved him into the wall.

His head cracked against the paneling, but the pain didn't make sense because _why was she angry he didn't do anything wrong_.

"Rogue? Motion beads are built into the glove," She tried to force a sentence out, but she was angry and hurt (_why?_) and the words wouldn't come, so he kept going, "It's so that I can shake people's hands…"

Her shoulders were shaking, her fists clenched, and even more disturbing was that her eyes were glistening and wet and _why was she angry_?

"Don't!" She yelled and looked ready to grab him by the shirt front but instead she whirled around and grabbed the nearest door handle.

"But I thought—"

She opened it, slammed it behind her. It was the linen closet. Kurt waited for her to realize her mistake—the door flew open and a whirlwind stormed out.

"Rogue, why?" He grabbed her arm.

She turned on him. "Because!"

"Because what?" He yelled back. "I just touched you!"

"Well, thanks a lot." She hissed. "For the warning, and all. Not like being able to feel somebody for the first time in oh, five years would have come as a shock or anything. Or that, maybe…"

"Maybe what, Rogue?"

She looked up at him, searched for words, lost them. The glare hardened.

"I don't know." She spat. This time, when she wrenched her arm out of his grip, he let her go.

She was being honest--she didn't know. That was the problem.

* * *

_More to come, all Rogue-centered. I debated spelling out Rogue's accent--but I really don't know the Southern accent well enough to do it convincingly, and if I really bothered to make it accurate, her dialogue would be near unreadable. So I left it basically as is. "I don't see why you have to always come snooping in mine." would be "Ah don' see wah ya hafta always come snoopin' en mahn." There's different ways to imply the accent (other than blatantly pointing it out, which I chickened out and did)--word order, choice of phrasing, etc. Ah well._

_Reviews are loved. If something bugs you about it, go ahead and tell me. It helps a lot. Thanks in advance._ :


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